The Middle Man
by Sexi Silver
Summary: Dean's thoughts on Sam and John's fights. Dean 18, Sam 14. Dean isn't as tough as he likes to show. Chapter 5 is up! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or John, Dean, and Sam Winchester. I only own the plot.**

**A/N: Just to clarify this, Dean is 18 and Sam is 14. I love reading fics of when they're kids, and wanted to write one of my own.**

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**The Middle Man**

"SAM! Why can't you just be like your older brother? He follows my orders!" John Winchester yelled at his youngest son.

"Because I'm not Dean. I won't become your perfect little solider Dad! I have my own life to live!" Sam yelled back, angry with his dad.

This argument started when they came home from a hunt, Dean having to save Sam's ass, once again it seemed to John. He was annoyed with Sam at how stubborn he was being, and wanted him to become more like Dean.

Neither of them knew what their arguments were doing to Dean. Dean would always be behind the closed door, listening, and his heart breaking. Dean once thought his family was perfect, that this was all they needed: each other. But his perfect little family was falling apart every day, piece by piece. Ever since Sam was brought on his first hunt, John would think that Dean was the better man, and then bicker at Sam why he wasn't as good. Sam started fighting back, instead of taking it as a perfect little solider, and it had led to this.

Dean would listen until he could take it no more, and he would never admit this, but he would have tears pouring down his face, hearing his father scream at his Sammy, then hearing Sam scream right back at his father. It was a vicious circle for Dean. He didn't know whose side to pick, so he would just pretend he didn't hear them, and would ignore the tension that Sam and his father hid around Dean. They would try to be civil around Dean, for his benefit, but Dean knew.

Tonight was no different, more shouting, more anger, but it had been building for weeks. The last argument that Dean heard was heart wrenching. He couldn't stand it, and had run out of the motel they were in for that night, and went for a walk, to distance himself from their bickering. It seemed to Dean that they were always at each other's throat, leaving him lost in the middle. He wouldn't, no, couldn't choose a side to be on. He loved them both so much that it was impossible to turn his back on the other. He would always be the unknown bystander, not able to push open the door and stop them from fighting. They didn't know that he knew about all their arguments. They tried to keep him out of that loop. Sometimes they would start arguing when they thought he was gone, but he was just upstairs, or in another room. Sometime he would walk into the motel they were in, and hear them at it. He wouldn't walk into the room they were yelling in, but stayed behind the door, frightened of what he was hearing.

Dean tried so hard to be the perfect little solider, to have no fears, but he had one fear that he wouldn't admit to. He was scared of these arguments he kept witnessing. He wanted them to stop so badly, but he couldn't bring himself to open the door. He would just listen, and then leave, so Sam and John would continue to think that Dean didn't know. It was better that they both thought he didn't know about them. If they knew that he knew, then he would be forced to pick a side, and break their family up forever. He would make one victorious, and one heart broken, and most likely pissed at him. So he kept their secret for them. He never let on that he knew, and they continued to pretend that nothing was the matter between them.

Dean was crying quietly five minutes into tonight's argument, for more than one reason. One, he knew this fight would last a while, more than an hour. Two, John was being unfair to Sam by bringing Dean into the argument by telling Sam that Dean was the better man, and he should learn more from him. Be more like him. Three, Sam was playing dirty by bringing up hunts that were unsuccessful for John, where people had died.

This was too much for Dean. He moved away from the door he was listening behind, and walked to the door, silently. He quietly opened the door and walked out, shutting the door behind him as quietly as was possible. He didn't want them to hear him leaving. They thought he was already out.

Dean walked to the road, and then stopped. Which way did he want to walk tonight? Left or right? Dean would always walk down the road until he knew he was alone, and then when he got tired, started back. He remembered that last time he walked to the left, so he turned right. Dean started to walk briskly down the road, tears still falling from his eyes. These were the times where Dean didn't care if he was crying. These were the only times he would cry, since he was a small child. Before the arguments started, the last time Dean remembered crying was when he was eight and was on his first hunt with his dad. The spirit threw him through a wall before his father got to it and killed it. After he was out of the house, his tears dried up and his dad gave him the perfect little solider lecture, where soldiers don't cry, don't have fears, and will get up no matter what happened. Dean learned from then on, and never cried until the arguments.

Dean couldn't take it anymore and started to sprint as fast as he could down the road. He sprinted until he tripped and fell from exhaustion. He couldn't move, and he didn't want to. His heart was split in two, and he didn't know how to fix it. All he wanted was for the fighting to stop, for his father to accept Sam for who he was, and for Sam to accept their life and deal with it. This was the life that Dean knew, the only life he knew. And he was fine with it. He didn't want it to change. Well, he did. The fighting, and he wanted his mother back. He wanted it to be when he was four. No worries in the world, but he had become a man at the tender age of four. But he knew he had become the man he is today because of it, and in a small way, he was grateful.

Rain started to fall from the skies, and Dean pulled his knees up to his chest, and let the rain soak him through. He didn't care about anything anymore. Dean sighed after that thought. He knew it wasn't true, but he wanted it to be true. So he wouldn't be a lesser man for crying every time he heard an argument between his father and his Sammy. So he wouldn't feel like he did tonight every other night they fought. So he could live happily and only care about the next hunt they would move onto. So he could have his Sammy and his father in a room together, happy, without them having to fake being happy around each other. So his heart wouldn't be broken. So everything would be back to normal, whatever normal was.

Dean had wanted everything to go back to normal. But Dean had never known normal, unless normal was training in your backyard since you were five to hunt demons and spirits. To know how to kill demons, and perform exorcisms perfectly at the age of eight. To help his father train Sammy to kill and perform exorcisms by the time Sam was eight as well. Dean had wanted to be normal so bad at times that he had actually looked it up. And had memorised it, so he would know what normal is, and know what he was missing. There were two definitions he knew. The first was a definition of the actual word. _Normal: conforming with or constituting a norm or standard or level or type or social norm; not abnormal. _The second definition was directed more towards what his Sammy was trying to earn. _Normal: being approximately average_ _or within certain limits in ie: intelligence and development; "a perfectly normal child"; "of normal intelligence"; "the most normal person I've met."_ Dean wanted it as bad as Sammy does, but knew that it would never happen. Knew that there will always be that tension between then two.

Dean's cell phone rang a considerable amount of time later, possibly a few hours after he ran out of the motel room. He looked at the ID, and sighed when it read Sammy. He flipped open his cell phone, and pressed the send button, accepting the call. Sometimes he wondered why getting a cell phone, but it had helped them in a few hunts.

"Hello?" Dean answered.

"Dean? Where are you?" Sammy's voice said over the phone. And if Dean heard him right, he was scared.

"I wanted to take a walk Sammy," Dean answered, but really wanted to say, _"I can't stand listening to you two fighting all the time. I had to get out."_

"Well, come back, okay? It's well past midnight," Sammy said.

"Yeah, I'll come back soon," Dean said and hung up. Dean sighed and thought what he wouldn't give for Sam and John to stop their fighting. Dean would give anything for them to stop fighting. Grudgingly, Dean stood up and started walking back to their motel in the rain. He hadn't noticed the rain earlier, but was started to feel the cold from it. Dean quickened his pace to get back to the motel. Not to see his brother, or his father, but to get warm again. A nice long hot shower, and then bed.

Dean knew what he would witness when he walked back in. Either just his father, or just Sam waiting for him to come home, or both of them up, with neither of them speaking. That is until Dean walks in, then smiles will come across their faces, and they will pretend that Dean doesn't know, and that it will be their little secret. In a way, it is their little secret, but an even bigger secret for Dean, because he has to hide his broken heart, and pretend like he doesn't know.

But Dean knows only too well.

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**A/N: **I originally planned this to become a oneshot, but I also planned on having more than just one fight in here. I may add more chapters to this, and I may not. Tell me what you think in a review and if I should continue this story line. 

I got my idea from watching a scene where Dean sees them fighting. John is gripping Sam by his coat close to his face, Dean then steps in and breaks thetwo apart, and getting back in each othe their own cars, leaving Dean standing there confussed, but looking sad. And I wondered what Dean would be like in his childhood, and this came to mind. I just had to write it. Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this.

Silver


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or John, Dean, and Sam Winchester. I only own the plot.**

**A/N: Just to clarify this, Dean is 20 and Sam is 16.

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**The Middle Man **

"Dean, come on man, wake up!" Sam said worriedly.

"Dean, son, wake up!" John said, while slapping Dean's cheeks.

Sam was driving the Impala as fast as he dared to the hospital after the hunt they were on at the time turned sour. He kept looking over his shoulder at Dean in the backseat. Sam had failed to notice the spirit when it was right in front of him, and it resulted in Dean having to be rushed to the hospital. The python spirit they were hunting could blend into the backgrounds, and had fooled Sam, and it turned on Dean and ran him through with his claws, before John came in and saved both their asses. This angered John because he had trained both Dean and Sam and yet it seemed like only Dean truly listened and proved it on the hunts. Sam's heart wasn't in the hunt, and that fact almost killed his brother.

"Come on Dean, wake up!" John said nervously, slapping his son's face harder than before. Dean's unconscious body was lying limp on John's lap in the backseat of the Impala, trying to wake his son up, and stop the flow of blood. Dean was going to freak when he saw the mess he made in the Impala.

Dean moaned and turned his head away from John's hand. His eyes opened slowly and he looked at his surroundings. He recognized the Impala's interior and realised they had already left the hunting site.

"Did we kill it?" Dean asked in a hoarse voice.

John sighed in relief and nodded to his son in his lap. After making sure his son was going to be okay, his thoughts turned back to what had happened back at the house they had been at. Sam had failed to protect his brother, once again, and they were going to the hospital, again. _When would Sam learn? _John mused.

When they arrived at the hospital, Sam opened the passenger door, and helped John carry Dean up to the emergency doors. They hurried in and a doctor came rushing toward them.

"What happened?" She asked, looking over Dean's wounds.

"He got attacked by a dog on the loose. When we got to him, he was unconscious. He just woke up," John said, quickly coming up with a believable story. But it was second nature to John, considering he had to make up stories for himself, and then for when he had to bring Dean in here for Sam's slip-ups.

The doctor motioned for a nurse to being a wheelchair over, and they settled Dean in the chair as comfortably as possible. The nurse then wheeled him off to a vacant room. The doctor stayed behind to ask a few more questions.

"What's the man's name?" she questioned them.

"Dean Nicholson," John answered.

"And how long ago was he attacked?"

"About an hour I'd say. I don't know for sure,"

"Thank you. If you'll take a seat in the waiting room, we'll come back and tell you how he's doing," the doctor said quickly, while hurrying of to Dean's room.

John and Sam took seats in the waiting room, and a silence growing between them. They shared no words, only thought on Dean and his well-being. Sam was depressed at once again failing to save his brother, as his brother had done countless times for him. John was angered at Sam for his thoughtlessness, and sending Dean to the hospital with serious injuries. Once again, Sam was to blame for Dean's injury, and he would have to learn his lesson.

Three hours later, the doctor came back to say that Dean had went into surgery two hours before and was sleeping in his room. They were allowed to go see him if they promised to be quiet and let him get some rest. Sam and John both nodded their heads and walked towards Dean's room in complete silence. They hadn't uttered a word since they arrived.

When they walked into Dean's room, they looked down at his body sprawled on the white sheets, looking helpless, a sight neither of them liked to witness. Dean's chest was stitched up with countless stitches, and he had an iv pumping fluids into his body. Sam broke the silence first.

"This is all my fault. If only I had seen it," he muttered. John heard him, and his anger took over.

"You're damn right. This is your fault! How many times do you have to screw up before you get it? Dean knows what he's doing. Learn from him!" John said angrily.

Sam looked at his father in shock, not understanding what he just heard. Sam's anger started to grow.

"I'm not Dean, Dad. Maybe you wished it was me in that bed, and not Dean, your perfect little solider! I will never be what you want me to be. I will be ME!" Sam said, slightly raising his voice, still conscious of being in a hospital.

"I know you're not Dean. It's quite obvious when you keep letting him down and sending him to hospitals. And yes, I do wish it were you in that bed and not Dean!" John said before he realised what he said.

Sam stood in shock, hearing his fathers words hit home. His dad hated him. His own flesh and blood. Sam always knew Dean was the favoured brother, but not to this extent. Sam lost control and started yelling at John.

"So you wish for me to be dead, is that it? You wish that demon had taken me and not Mom, that's what you want right Dad? I'm sorry I'm even alive!" Sam yelled, striking a nerve in John. Sam knew what buttons to push when he was angry, and John knew the same to Sam. John took the hit Sam threw at him, and let the anger bubble over the edge and lost control as well.

"I don't wish you dead Sam, and I wish Mary was still alive with us today. But this is the life you got, and you will obey me! If you listened in the first place, we wouldn't be here!" John yelled right back.

The door to the room slammed open and the doctor rushed in with the same nurse as before.

"What do you think you two are doing? Let the man rest!" She said loudly. She quickly looked over at Dean to make sure he was still sleeping, and ushered the two men out, with the help of the nurse. When the door closed, Dean sighed.

Dean had woken up when he heard his father tell Sam that he should be more like him. He pretended to be asleep so the two wouldn't know he was listening to it. When they started yelling at each other, he wanted so badly to shut them up. To tell them to be quiet and to stop fighting. But he kept his eyes closed and listened. Neither of the bickering men had noticed the tears falling from his closed eyes. They were too wrapped up in their argument.

Dean felt another piece of his heart break into pieces. The arguments have been going on for four years, ever since Sam was on his first hunt. Sam was now a stubborn sixteen year old and would disobey John at any moment, even during the hunt when it could cost one of them their life. Dean wanted to tell each of them what they were doing to him. It was the worst torture he could ever dream of. A demon could torture him physically to the brink of death, yet the pain he felt from their arguments would be much greater. Dean could never escape pain, even when he was in the best physical condition ever. Whenever he heard Sam and his father have a go at each other behind closed doors, he would hide behind the door, listening, not getting the courage to stop the argument. He was the bystander who couldn't interfere without destroying the family. Dean wanted his family to be perfect once again. Normal. But it was too late to return to what his family once had. Their innocence left them and arguments took their place. Dean was tormented day and night from the arguments. It was slowly pushing Dean into a depression.

Dean wished for a miracle. Something that would mend his broken heart. Something to mend their broken family. He wanted all the pieces put back together before they collected too much dust and couldn't fit back together. If only he could get the nerve to stop his brother and his father from bickering. If only he could be fixed before it was too late. If only the rift between his brother and his father could be smaller, or nonexistent. _If only, if only, if only,_ Dean wondered. If only this family were a family once more, then maybe his broken heart had a chance to be whole once again.

_If only.

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**A/N: **Well this is the second chapter that was asked for. There is at least one more chapter to be added, possibly two. I don't know for sure yet. Hope this is up to your standards that you have set since reading the first chapter, because I worked until one in the morning on this! It wouldn't let me sleep, it had to get out. Please leave me a review, they are greatly appreciated, and help me write faster.

Silver


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or John, Dean, and Sam Winchester. I only own the plot.**

**A/N:Just to clarify this,Dean is 16 and Sam is 12. I know this isn't in order, but I felt like writing what I think their first argument was like.**

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"DAD! Stop babying me!" Sam yelled at his father.

"Babying you? You think I'm babying you?" John roared.

"Yes I do! You let Dean go on his first hunt when he was ten, and let him do a solo hunt when he was 12! Well I'm 12 and haven't even been on my first hunt yet!" Sam yelled, having lost control of his anger long before. This was the first time he remembered having an argument with his dad.

"I brought Dean on his first hunt when he was ten because I knew he was ready to face what's out there. And he was 13 when he had his first solo hunt! You have yet to prove to me that your able to go on a hunt and be able to carry the responsibilities it entitles!" John yelled, also having lost control of his anger. This was the first time he's argued with either of his sons, and he wasn't enjoying it one bit, but if it got Sam to understand, then he would shoulder it with no regrets.

"Well you haven't given me any opportunities to prove myself!" Sam yelled in defence.

Dean had just walked in the house they were currently living in. He heard his father and Sam yelling from the kitchen and was about to open the door and walk in to see what was going on when he heard his name mentioned. He froze when he heard it and listening form behind the door. They were arguing about the hunts and when Sam would join him and his dad on one. Dean remembered being ten on his first hunt, but he never mentioned it to Sam, but he had somehow figured it out. When the yelling intensified, Dean wanted to run in and stop it. But he was rooted to the spot, simply listening to the argument, not having the courage to step in and stop it. This was the first time he heard an argument like this, between his brother and father. Dean had been in some pretty nasty arguments, but they were with kids at school, and he always won, with either physical force or by simply threatening the kid. He usually only argued like that when someone was trying to hurt his baby brother.

Dean couldn't stand listening to this anymore. It was completely different when he was in the argument, then to listening to the two people he loved the most arguing at each other, dragging him into it by arguing around him. Dean moved away from the door and quickly ran up the stairs and locked himself in his room. He went to the corner and let the tears that he was holding back fall freely down his face. He pushed himself as far into the corner as he could go and let go of his emotions. He felt betrayed somehow, having his family argue about him.

The yelling could be heard clearly in Dean's room, as the kitchen was directly below his room. Dean was still listening, against his will, at the argument that was still going on. He kept saying stop under his breath, knowing they couldn't hear it, but wishing they could. Dean started rocking and holding himself in a ball, wanting the arguing to stop, wanting it all to return to how it was before. How Dean wished this was just a horrible nightmare and he never heard Sam and John screaming at each other.

Dean could hear the hate dripping off each word the other was saying, and he felt his heart start to break. He couldn't take listening to this anymore. He got up and roughly brushed the tears away, trying unsuccessfully to stop them. He went to his school bag which he dropped at home earlier and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He quickly scribbled a note.

_Gone to Markus. Back for the hunt.  
__Dean_

Dean walked back downstairs silently and put the note on the table beside the door and walked out of the house. Dean wasn't actually going to see Markus, he hated Markus with a passion. Markus used to be Dean's best friend, but because Markus had made the mistake of calling his little brother stupid, Dean had beat him up and said never to talk to him again. Dean just wanted to get out, to be on his own, until his dad needed him. The hunt tonight was to exorcise a Wraith. Dean hated those with a passion as well. The first time he had to face one, well, he didn't remember. But he remembered waking up in the hospital with John and Sam's worried faces watching him. They told him he had been out for two days. When Sam left the room for a minute, his dad told him he was thrown through two walls and down a flight of stairs and he was lucky to have only broken his arm. That's why Dean hated Wraiths, and why he was so keen on killing this one, so it wouldn't do what it did to him, to others.

Dean started walking down his driveway, when he came to the road. He couldn't decide which way he wanted to walk, so he walked across the street and into the woods. He found the trail and started walking down it to try and clear his thoughts. Why would Sam think that he was being babied? Dean would think he would be glad not to come on the hunts, as he wants to have a normal childhood, a normal life. And normal did not include hunting the supernatural, something that not many people believed in. If they did, and talked about it, it would be a one way ticket to a mental asylum.

Dean sighed and sat down on a fallen log. He couldn't ever remember hearing such a vicious argument. Even the ones he participated in weren't as violent as the one he left. He didn't think it was possible to hear the hate that much, but he did, and it stung. How could a family such as their's have so much hate hidden beneath the surface. Dean didn't hate his brother, or his father. He may dislike them at times, and have small squabbles with them, but it lasted less than five minutes each time, and then he forgot the hate. It seemed to him that this had been building, and wasn't released, just pent up. Until today, when it exploded.

There was only one thing that Dean was scared of, and that he would admit to. He was scared of losing his family. He was terrified that one of them wouldn't live to see the next hunt, and it almost made him not want to go on the hunt. Almost. Dean always felt the satisfaction of a job well done after him and his dad killed whatever it was that was terrorizing the town. Felt the satisfaction of the kill when it was his kill. Felt the urge to hunt, like his father did. Unlike Sam did. Yet Sam was pushing to be like one of them, like he could let go of the 'normal life' he wants for himself. But Sam will never truly be a hunter. Not when he sees kids everywhere leading a normal childhood, not knowing what goes bump in the night. But with Sam now wanting to go on the hunts with them, Dean's fear only grew. He could only hope that it wouldn't stop him when he needs to accomplish what needs to be done on the hunt. He can only hope Sam is prepared when he does finally go on his first hunt.

Dean looked down at his watch when he noticed the light slightly. It read 7:32 PM. Dean stood up and reluctantly started walking home. When he neared the edge of the forest, he saw his father outside looking up and down the street before going back in the house. Dean realised he was looking for him and ran across the street and into the house before his father could call Markus and find out that Dean wasn't there. Then there would be hell to pay, on Dean's behalf.

Dean walked in the house, and it was completely silent, though he knew his father was somewhere, as he had just watched him move into the house moments before.

"Dad?" Dean called out quiet, but loud enough to be heard throughout the house. Dean heard footsteps come towards him and he waited for the person to reach him. His father walked out of the kitchen and looked at his oldest son with something like regret in his eyes.

"When are we leaving Dad?" Dean asked.

"In 15 minutes. Get your brother ready as well," John said in a stern voice.

"Sammy's coming, Dad? I thought you said he wasn't ready?"

"He's coming. He wanted to, it's his fault he's coming. Now go get ready."

"Yes sir," Dean answered dutifully and climbed the stairs to go get what he needs for the night's hunt. Hopefully he wouldn't let his father down with his mind concentrating on Sam and if he was safe or not. Dean wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to Sam and he could have done something to prevent it.

Dean tried to forget everything that happened in the past few hours and concentrated on the long night ahead. He tried to forget the argument, but his heart was already broken. He was already broken from it, and would need time to heal from it. But now was not the time. They had a Wraith to deal with, and Dean had his brother to watch over.

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**A/N: **This is the third chapter. There will be one more at least, unless more is requested, along with ideas for the fights. There is one more fight which I have planned out, but after that, I have a white piece of paper, and I hate a white piece of paper. Well, I hope you liked this chapter, and will review for me again!

Silver


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or John, Dean, and Sam Winchester. I only own the plot.**

**A/N: Just to clarify this, Dean is 22, and Sam is 18. Sorry for the long wait!**

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"Dean, can I talk to you?" Sam asked from the doorway to Dean's room.

Dean looked up at Sam, then back down at the gun he was cleaning.

"You can always talk to me Sam. You don't have to ask," Dean answered. When Sam hesitated and didn't answer right away, Dean put the gun down and looked at Sam expectantly. "Sam? What's this about?"

"I.. Ummm... I applied to some universities a while back, just to see if I would get in one. I got accepted at Stanford, for law Dean," Sam said quietly, not looking at his brother until he said his name, to see his reaction. Dean looked indifferent.

"Well, good for you Sammy. I always knew you were smart. But you've got no money to go," Dean said. He picked up the gun he was cleaning, and started cleaning it again, thinking that ended the conversation about going to college.

"I have a full ride Dean," Sam said slowly, wondering how Dean would take the news.

Dean stopped cleaning the gun, but didn't look up at Sam. Sam took that as a good sign and plodded on.

"I'm going Dean. You know I'm not a hunter. This is my way out, to have a normal life," Sam finished quickly, hoping Dean wouldn't get mad at him for thinking of leaving.

Dean paused for a moment before he looked up at Sam, his face showing a little anger. Sam took a deep breath and waited to hear what Dean would say.

"Sam, were not normal. We fight the supernatural, something people don't believe in. And what about Dad? Are you going to leave without telling him? You know he won't let you go. And what about me Sam? You're going to leave me alone with him? You're just going to abandon us, your family, for your own selfish life? Come on Sam, think!" Dean retorted.

Sam thought about all those points, and regretted telling Dean that he was leaving for Stanford that night.

"I'm going Dean, and I'm telling Dad tonight," Sam answered, then left the room. Dean sighed and knew what was coming. Another argument, then Sam up in his room ripping up the letter, and wondering what he was thinking. _At least he would be staying,_ Dean thought.

Dean finished cleaning and putting back together the gun, and then headed downstairs to start cooking supper and wait for their father to get home. Dean had just started the potatoes when John walked into the kitchen and sat down wearily.

"You kill it Dad?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," John answered simply.

Dean nodded and concentrated again on the task at hand. He was trying to remember if you put salt in the water or not to make it boil faster, when he heard Sam come down the stairs and drop two bags at the front door before walking into the kitchen.

"Hey Dad," Sam said, while grabbing a chair and putting his acceptance letter in front of John.

"What's this?" John asked.

"Just read it," Sam urged.

John picked up the letter and began to read it over. His expression turned from mild interest to a cold stare as he continued to read the contents of the letter. He finished reading the letter and put it down, then proceeded to fold his hands together. He looked down at his hands for a few minutes in complete silence, before he started to speak.

"When did you apply to Stanford?" John asked, keeping his tone neutral. Dean stood in the background waiting for Sam to answer.

"During grade 12, when you're supposed to," Sam answered somewhat snobbily.

"And when did you receive this letter?"

"A while ago, but I finally decided a few days back that I was going."

John looked up from his hands and had an angered expression plastered on his face.

"So you're going?" John asked, staring directly at Sam. Dean knew what was about to happen, and took his leave, going up to his room. Before he went in his room, he looked in Sam's and saw that it was empty, except for a few books and pictures. He knew then that Sam was leaving, no matter what their dad said or did.

Dean couldn't hear what was being said, until the yelling started. Dean cringed when he heard Sam yelling that he wanted to be normal, and that he wasn't a hunter.That comment cut into Dean's heart deep. He knew Sam wanted to be normal, as he had since childhood, but didn't think that he would take it to this level. That he would abandon his family for himself to reach it.

But then Sam surprised Dean all the time: arguing with their stubborn father, doing all his school work, actually applying to college, keeping it a secret from him, hunting when he said he wouldn't. And know to add abandoning his family, Sam was risking breaking up the family forever, something Dean needed desperately. It was all he had left, and he didn't want it to break up because of one argument.

Dean started crying, hearing his father and brother at it, once again. He sat on his bed, listening to the yelling about families, hunting, himself, school, almost everything. It seemed like it was all arguments combined into one, it cut deep, more than any of the others dad done so, combined.

Dean roughly wiped the tears away when he had heard enough. He was going to stop them, and then try to get Sam to stay, for him, for their family to stay together.

Just as Dean reached the stairs, it grew quiet. Dean listened intently for any other sound to begin climbing down the stairs. What he heard his father say next froze his heart and his feet.

"If you walk out that door, don't ever come back!"

Dean stayed on the stairs and watched as Sam came in view, grabbed his bags off the floor and start walking towards the door. Just as he was about to open the front door, Dean found his voice.

"Sammy?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam stopped and turned to look back at Dean on the stairs. He hesitated before he said anything.

"You know I have to go, Dean. Bye," Sam said then walked out the front door.

When the door clicked shut, Dean unfroze his feet and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

"Why did you let him go, Dad?" Dean asked.

John sighed before answering. "I didn't let him go, Dean. I gave him a choice: him or us. He chose himself."

"I'm going to get him!" Dean said, turning on his heel and starting to walk down the hallway, until a firm hand was placed on his shoulder.

"No Dean. You will stay here and have no contact with him. He made his choice, No phone calls, no going to see him, nothing!" John said.

Dean shrugged his father's hand off and mumbled a _yes sir_. He quickly said he was going out and would be in a while.

Dean grabbed his car keys and coat when he noticed it was raining. Before he walked out the door, Dean saw Sam's coat still on its hook beside the door.

Dean drove in the direction of the bus station, until he found Sam walking, soaked, and pulled over to the side of the road to let him in.

Sam threw the bags in the back and got in the passenger seat without saying anything. He avoided looking at Dean because he knew he would regret leaving.

After they reached the bus station, Dean and Sam both got out and Dean reached for one of Sam's bags before Sam grabbed it. They walked to the ticket booth and Sam asked for a one way ticket to Stanford. Before Sam could pay, Dean took some money from his wallet and paid for Sam.

"It's the least I can do," Dean stated when Sam started to protest. Sam silenced instantly and cast his eyes downward. Dean walked Sam to his bus and helped him load his bags in the under carriage.

"Bye Sammy, be good, and call my cell sometimes," Dean said quietly, disobeying the order about no more contact with Sam.

"Bye Dean," Sam said, not bothering to correct Dean that his name was Sam. He started to walk to the bus when Dean called him back. Sam turned around and was enveloped in a hug. Dean hugged Sam fiercely, not wanting to let Sam go. Sam hugged Dean back after his shocked subsided. Dean hadn't given him a hug in a long time.

When the bus was about to leave, the brother broke apart reluctantly. Dean took off his coat and gave it to Sam.

"To remember me by," Dean said simply.

"I don't need anything to remember you by Dean," Sam said back, not taking the coat. When Dean continued to hold out the coat, and wouldn't take no for an answer, Sam took it hesitantly, but then quickly put it on.

Sam boarded his bus and sat in a window seat so he could wave bye to Dean. When the bus started moving away from the station, Sam was waving frantically at Dean, with dean waving back. Sam watched Dean until the bus took a turn and he wasn't able to see Dean anymore. He turned forwards in his seat and sighed.

Dean watched the bus pull away, and let a few tears fall. The rain was soaking him to the bone, but Dean didn't care. His heart had died, he had died. Sam had left. His family was broken. Just like ha already was.

Dean slowly drove back to the house, only to find it completely dark. John's truck was gone, and the front door was locked. The only welcome home he got was a note from his father saying he was gone hunting and would be back sometime next week.

Dean was completely alone. His family had abandoned him.

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**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed the fourth chapter, just as much as the first three. I'm sorry for the long wait, this has been written since last week, but this is my first free day since last Monday to go on the computer. I will try to update this soon, and also Hangman's Noose for those of you that read both.

Happy Hunting!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or John, Dean, and Sam Winchester. I only own the plot.**

**A/N: Just to clarify this, Dean is 26, and Sam is 22. Sorry for the really long wait on this chapter!**

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**Dean was driving back to the motel, in a very happy mood, after picking up breakfast for Sam, his father, and himself. They had finally found their father, and he agreed to stay with them for the time being. That was only one of the three things that made Dean happy. Another thing was that their father had been following the demon's trail, and was close to killing it. The third thing that Dean was happy about was that no argument had occurred between Sam and John. Dean remembers all to well the heartache the arguments would cause and was so glad that none had happened. Their father probably wouldn't be staying with them long enough for an argument to break out. 

Dean pulled up beside his dad's truck and parked the car. He grabbed their breakfast ad opened the car too to get out. After he closed the door and started walking to their motel room, Dean could hear yelling. He didn't really think that much about it, only guessing that it was somebody else arguing. When he got closer their door, he heard Sam's voice yell something he couldn't quite make out, but it was definitely Sam. Then he heard his father's deeper voice and stopped in his tracks. Once again, Dean was behind the closed door, listening to the argument, and unable to do anything but listen.

Dean could hear bits an pieces of the argument and realised they were arguing about the time Sam left for college, and why John never answered any of their phone messages, especially the one where Dean almost died. All that Dean heard of what John said in defence was that iw as safer for all of them to have the least amount of phone contact as possible.

The argument had been going on long enough for Dean to dry his eyes, muster up all the courage he could and open the door. The sight on the other side was one of confusion, which quickly turned to shock and embarrassment. Dean closed the door behind him and put the breakfast on the table for turning to look at his brother and father. They both had watched Dean's progress without uttering a sound. Dean looked at them with faked innocence.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dean asked.

Sam and John both looked at each other before they quickly said no.

"Good. So then you won't mind telling me what you were both yelling about a few minutes ago?"

Sam and John both didn't say anything, but looked at the floor with great interest.

"Why do you guys have to hide these from me?" Dean asked quietly.

That brought Sam and John out of their stupor and they both looked at Dean with shocked faces.

"What are we keeping from you Dean? We aren't hiding anything from you," John said. Sam nodded his head in agreement. For once they were on the same side, willingly, Dean noticed.

"All the arguments you two have! Like this one, the one before Sam went to Stanford, the one in the hospital room six years ago, when Sam argued to go on his first hunt, the one about the perfect little solider that I apparently am and that Sam isn't! All those argument! When did you plan on telling me, or to stop having them in the first place? Did you think that I didn't know? Do you know what you two have been doing to me? Do you?" Dean burst out. He also lost control of his emotions and started crying, in front of his dad. In front of his baby brother, but he didn't care anymore.

John and Sam couldn't move from where they were, but looked at Dean in shock and embarrassment. Sam was the first one to break the silence.

"How long have you known Dean?" Sam asked quietly, still not accepting the fact that Dean knew for a long time without telling them. For knowing that their act around Dean hadn't kept the secret from him.

"Ever since you were twelve Sam. I've known about them for ten years. Ten years of heartache, and heartbreak, and depression I've had to deal with while you two constantly made it worse. At each other's throats all the time. I had no one to turn to. I couldn't talk to you Sam, because Dad would feel betrayed, and I couldn't talk to you Dad, because then Sam would feel betrayed. It was a horrible situation to be in. I was the middle man for ten years. But you never knew. Never realised that you two were the only one's I had left. The only thing keeping me going and the only thing breaking me apart. You are the only family I've got left. The only thing I've got. And you're making it so hard on me. I can't chose between you two. I can only choose both of you. I won't choose sides, I won't step in. You have to stop. You're killing me inside and it hurts so bad to hear you yelling at each other, and usually about me. That cut deep, fighting around me without me even being there! I've lost it all id I don't have you two in my life. All I'm asking is for you to stop arguing. That's all I ask, to get along, to try and understand each other, instead of using your differenced against each other and creating an unbridgeable rift between you two. I need this family whole, for me to be whole again."

When Dean stopped talking, Sam and John were staring at him with open mouths. They were shocked to hear that their Dean was broken, heartbroken, depressed, alone, and that they had no idea as of it. Sam got up and sat beside Dean while John moved to Dean's other side.

"We'll try to stop Dean. It will be easier for us to stop then for you to heal though," John stated.

Sam nodded his head in agreement. He knew how long it took him to get over Jess' death, and John knew how long it took him to get over Mary. But Dean never lost someone that he knew inside and out, like Sam and John did. Dean's heartache was also caused by two people, and not just one, like John and Sam's were. It would take time out from hunting to heal, and both of Sam and John to be there to help him heal. It would he a long process, but it could work, and both Sam and John were ready to undertake the challenge for Dean. For themselves. For their family.

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**A/N:** Sorry for the really long wait on this chapter! I had a lot of work to do around the house, and school had started up and I was really busy with homework and the likes. We were renovating my room, so all my stuff was in boxes, including my notebook which I had this story in, so I on;y got to it recently. This was the last chapter! The final entry to this story! Hope you liked it and will review for me to tell me what you thought of the whole story. I enjoyed writing, and will devote more of my time to writing Hangman's Noose, and two new fics I have in the beginning stages. 

Happy Hunting!


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